“This is your first show, ithn’t it?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Thay, what are you doing in the chorus, anyway?”
“Getting scolded by Mr Miller mostly, it seems to me.”
“Thcolded by Mr Miller! Why didn’t you say ‘bawled out by Johnny?’ That’th what any of the retht of us would have said.”
“Well, I’ve lived most of my life in England. You can’t expect me to talk the language yet.”
“I thought you were English. You’ve got an acthent like the fellow who plays the dude in thith show. Thay, why did you ever get into the show business?”
“Well … well, why did you? Why does anybody?”
“Why did I? Oh, I belong there. I’m a regular Broadway rat. I wouldn’t be happy anywhere elthe. I was born in the show business. I’ve got two thithters in the two-a-day and a brother in thtock out in California and dad’s one of the betht comedians on the burlethque wheel. But any one can thee you’re different. There’s no reathon why you should be bumming around in the chorus.”
“But there is. I’ve no money, and I can’t do anything to make it.”